Leia & the Angel
by PhantomPhan24
Summary: When Leia Valois is kidnapped by the Angel of Music and led to the caverns below the Opera Populaire, she feels a bond and love shes never felt. But when she is accepted by the managers at the Paris Opera, she must choose between Erik and her newfound fam
1. 1 To an Eternal Rest

To an Eternal Rest

December 3, 1872 very near midnight

Above my head lay my dying father. I was only 13 when I lost my father during that terrible, brutal winter. The room was lit by a mere candle light. Monsieur Jamon had told my "mother", Madame Harris and myself, Leia Valois, that he would probably not make it through the night. I'm not sure what killed him, but he had been suffering for a long time.

I lay on the cold hard floor…above me my dying father in what could be his death bed. Madame Harris hadn't previously allow me to lie before my father's bed, but with news that this could be his last night, she allow me to. Therefore, I lay on the floor, with nothing but a scratchy old blanket and an unstuffed pillow that Monsieur Jamon had given me.

I didn't know what to think, with my father dying. Madame Harris had recently told me that she would no longer be able to care for me after my father died. Where would I go? Would be married off? Oh the horrors of the second option! I could already see Madame Harris eying a candidate, a candidate whom I _despised_. Monsieur Jean, a young carpenter in the outskirts of Paris, he was arrogant and unappreciative of the art of music, an art I loved and adored.

My father had played the violin before I died…and he had taught me to sing. I have been singing since I was very young. Unfortanely my father never found his break before his death. But my thoughts were interrupted by my father's now faint voice.

"Leia, are you still up?"

"Father?"

"Come here for a second darling.

"Remember the stories I used to tell you girls of the Angel of Music?" I nodded my head. When we lived by the sea in Germany, he told me and the other girls at the music school of the Angel of Music. I could see that he vaguely remembered it.

The story went that if a young musician was passionate about their music, someday, the Angel of Music would appear to them. However, if the children were naughty, and did not practice their scales he would not appear to them until much later. I was certain he had appeared to my father at sometime or another. How else did he know so much of the angel?

"I want to let you know, that when I reach Heaven," he said, reaching his hand up to touch my cheek, "that I will tell him of you, and will send him to you." It brought tears to my eyes to hear him talk of heaven, the thought of his impending death scared me. But it also brought me joy to know that perhaps, I too, would be sent the Angel of Music.

"Truthfully, my child," he continued, "I myself have never been visited by the angel. I only speak of what other musicians that have have told me." This, too, pained me to hear him say. _My father_, the great Lorenzo Valois, had never been visited by the Angel of Music! It pained me to hear. "However," he continued, "I shall _make sure_ he is sent to you, my daughter."

Those were his last words.


	2. A Proposal from Jean

Proposal from Jean

December 4, 1872 just after midnight

"Father! Father!" I shouted at his bedside. The illness had overcome him. His eyes were closed shut, his skin pale as the moon that shone in that night. He looked so peaceful. As if he were just asleep.

But he was, he was at an eternal sleep. And that left a big hole in my heart. Without my father I was nothing. Without our music, I was nothing. It was almost as if my soul had been lifted out of my body as his was. And now I was just a walking body.

Madame Harris walked in to the room. I was sitting on the edge of his bed. "Is he gone?" she asked. I nodded my head quietly.

She motioned for me to come along. I slowly rose from my spot on the bed and kissed my father good-bye.

As we walked downstairs, thoughts began to race like before…only it was one burning thought that kept me thinking, where was Madame Harris taking me? Who was downstairs? Why was she taking me there?

But soon all these questions would be answered. And it was an answer I was most dreading. For when I walked downstairs, there I saw in the candlelight: Jean.

Jean walked up to me and went down on one knee. I already knew what was coming. I could see it from the moment I saw him. He kneeled down and kissed my hand. And then he said:

"Leia, from the moment I met you I knew you were the one. Marry me."

I yanked my hand back from Jean and screamed, "No!". I quickly ran up to my father's room and sat on the floor by his bed. I suddenly heard a knock on the door. It was Madame Harris.

She yelled at me. _Screamed_ at me. "Leia! How could you be so rude?" she screamed. "He bent down on his knee! He said what every woman wants to hear! And yet you yank your hand back and run up here!"

"He _did_ go down on one knee! He _did _say what every woman wants to hear! And for what? So he can make lots of babies and for money?" I replied back to her. "I'm sorry Madame Harris! But I don't _love_ him!"

"Don't you see, Leia? This is isn't about _love_? This is about our family! It's just you and me now! We don't have the means to provide for ourselves! And this is the only solution!"

"I _refuse_ to marry that creep! And he's a carpenter! How could he ever provide for my singing career?" I asked.

"_Singing Career?_" Madame Harris said. "What _singing career?_" she asked.

Tears swelled up in my eyes. I couldn't believe she was saying this? I give up my music and get _Jean_? There was no way.

"Something to think about tonight," Madame Harris said coldly, scooping up my scratchy blanket and pillow.

I ran to the side of my father's bed and just cried. How could it all come down to this? When did my life suddenly turn to shambles? I was praying to my father and to the angel.

Suddenly, I heard a voice. "Leia," the voice called. "Leia!" I searched the room for the voice that called my name. Something in the mirror caught my eye. A shape, the shape of a person, was in the mirror. And the shape was singing, "I am your angel of music…Come to the angel of music…"

And a sudden curiosity took over me. But it wasn't an innocent curiosity like the many I had before. I was under the angel's spell, and as if I was in a dream I walked to the mirror. The angel's hand was out, ready to take mine. I gave him my hand and all of a sudden, I was on the other side of the mirror. And face-to-face with the Angel of Music.


	3. The Journey to the Lake below the Opera

The Journey to the Lake below the Opera

I now recall the events that took place down below the Opera Populaire. It turns out the mirror in that room led to the caverns below the Opera Populaire. I could feel a hand in mine as we walked down the cavern. The wall was lit by several candles, and the angel had one too. The Angel was dressed in a black suit with a black cape. His hair was black and brushed back. And on his face was a mask that covered ½ of his face.

I could hear the sound of an organ around us, going up and down a scale. And as he led me down the caverns, my hand in his, he sang to me. I did not recognize the song but it was beautiful. And it drew me to him. It drew me to see what was behind the mask that he wore. And as we continued down the caverns the yearning grew.

We turned around a corner and I saw a very tall, very beautiful black horse at the end of the cave. He jumped on the horse and motioned for me to get on with him. There was no saddle so the angel lifted me onto the horse and we rode bareback down the rest of the cavern.

The organ continued playing and the angel continued singing. And the urge to see what laid behind the mask continued to grow and grow. I had my arms around the angel. I felt protected with him. I felt that if there was any impending danger that threatened me, he would be there. It was a feeling that I only felt with my father, and it was a feeling I never thought id experience again.

The caverns came to an end, but the journey still continued. I looked to my left and saw a small boat in a candlelit lake. The angel hopped off and I followed behind him. We climbed into the boat and pushed away from land. A big long stick acted as our steering device and we drifted down the lake.

And I heard the song grow louder and louder. And behind me I heard the angel yelling at me to "Sing! Sing Leia! Sing!"

I did. I sang my heart away for the angel. But I had never sang like this before. I sang with all my heart, all my mind, all my soul for the angel. I sang with power. I could hear my booming voice going higher and higher, to notes I didn't even know I could reach! And I continued climbing up the scales. "Sing for me, Leia! SING!" cried the angel.

Ahead was a gate, almost like a prison gate. Behind it was a stretch of land, lit by many, many candles. The gate opened for us and the boat slowly drifted into it. He continued to yell at me to sing. And I continued to do so.

The boat landed. The organ stopped. And so did my singing. The angel stepped out of the boat and flipped his cape. I stayed in the boat. While I felt protected by him, I also felt threatened.

What lied around us was something I never would have imagined existed. It wasn't as much a living area as much as it was an artistic domain. Beyond the many candles, there was an organ with a stand filled with music. Beside the organ was a desk that was filled with unfinished music, the angel must have been a composer. There was also a canvas, filled with paintings of a young girl in various costumes for different operas. She had long, long curly black hair and was very thin. There were many pictures of her all through out the domain. He must have had a love affair with this girl.

"Have you never heard of Miss Christine Daae?" he asked. He must have noticed that I had noticed the pictures of the girl.


	4. A Part of the Music of the Night

A part of the Music of the Night

He grabbed my hand and kissed it, the way that Jean had. But this time I knew it was more then a kiss. He gently took my hand and led me to the back of his domain, where a bed was. Now this may sound bad, but we just talked.

"Christine Daae was a few years older then you," he said. "She was a chorus girl at the Opera Populaire. Her talent was underappreciated. She was overshadowed by that _diva_, La Carlotta." He clenched his fists in rage, but his eyes were filled with tears. "Anyway, I could not just let her talent go unnoticed. I tutored her, every night. But we didn't just sing. She _listened _to me. She listened to my pain." He banged his clenched fist on the table. He could just barely stand the memory.

"Not only did I tutor her, I did everything within my power to keep Carlotta from performing. When she finally did, Christine got the recognition she always deserved." As he told that part, a hint of a smile gleamed across his face. "I heard her sing from the caverns here below. It was beautiful, truly. I finally had to meet Christine. Face to Face." He began shaking horribly. The story was hard for him to tell. He seemed to be doing everything to keep from bursting into tears.

"I brought her to my home that night. I invited her to sing for me. Sing my music for me." He reached to one of his stands and grabbed a leather bound folder. He handed it to me. I opened it and it was full of the most beautiful, most difficult music I had ever seen. I read the title 'Don Juan Triumphant'.

"I wrote that especially for her," he said, continuing with his story. He rose from the bed and motioned for me to follow. I did as I was told, I followed him. He led me to a mannequin. It wasn't just any mannequin.

"Oh, Christine," he said as he bent down to his knees and on the ground. "The day I brought her back to the Opera Populaire, she ran to the roof of the opera and I saw her kissing the patron." He was crying now, balling even. "It was too much for her. My love for her voice, my love for her, it was too much."

I didn't know what to say. He had held this up for years after Christine. The only thing I could say was, "What happened next?"

He looked up at me. "What do you think I did next? What would you have done next? For the next 6 months after that I stayed down here, mourning. Mourning my lost love for her! I also finished Don Juan Triumph. After that 6 months, I came to the Bal Masque to deliver it to the managers. There she was, with the patron. Dancing with him. _Engaged_ to him. I saw the ring, on a chain around her neck!

"They performed the opera a week later. I killed Piagni, the original Don Juan. It was just me and her, singing. But in the middle of the song, she realized it was me, and revealed my identity to the audience. By taking off the mask." I could see the pain coming in his eyes. "I felt naked without that mask on. It was the ultimate betrayal.

"I kidnapped her. Right off the stage. We were to get married that night. But, that patron. He followed us down to the lake. I gave her a choice, marry me and let him live or choose him and he dies. Singing the saddest song I'd ever heard, she slowly walked through the lake to me. And she did the unthinkable."

He paused for a second. Tears swelled up in his eyes. He began shaking violently. "She kissed me. On the lips. It was the first kiss I'd ever felt from a woman. The first time I'd felt a woman's touch. And it was in those few moments that I realized I could never have her. Since that moment, I've never left this house."

He balled. Cried. Shook. The cries of his sobs were the most painful. I had never heard anyone cry like him. I couldn't just stand there and watch him cry that. I ran to him, and put my arms around him. He was shaking like an earthquake. My arms wrapped around his front. He stroked my hands, as felt a woman's touch for only the second time in his life.


End file.
